


Who Knew A Day Off could Be So Life-Changing?

by oracle_with_issues



Category: Haikyuu!!, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Tamashi is DaiSuga lovechild, everyone (minus Shiro) is Pidge, i hope its not shit honestly, kind of voltron?, most characters are based of my friends, mostly fluff and these things called emotions, shiro needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 01:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10776804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oracle_with_issues/pseuds/oracle_with_issues
Summary: Victoria didn't mean to become a philosophical introvert on her day off, but apparently the universe had other plans.





	Who Knew A Day Off could Be So Life-Changing?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fic and I have no clue whatsoever as to what I'm doing so...yeah. At least my username is fitting. Anyway, I'm going to shut up, so I hope you guys enjoy. I own nothing.

Victoria heard a crashing noise in the back of her mind as she shot another faceless enemy. As she twisted her torso to avoid enemy fire and take out another opposing warrior, the 18-year-old caught sight of an orange flash and a falling storage crate. As Victoria started to turn her lower body to get a better look at what had happened, the heat of a plasma bolt far too close to her head reminded her of where she was and the sharpshooter turned her attention back to the battle, silently promising to find out what had happened once training was over. Yes, this was training for her and the rest of Voltron. As an elite battalion of six space warriors/pilots who ranged in age from 15 to 25, it should be expected that training was a little out of the ordinary. Today’s schedule consisted of fighting computer generated soldiers for an hour after shooting asteroids into oblivion, then getting the rest of the day off. As Vic finished of her 27th soldier with her twin blasters, a green light flashed through the Combat Room, signaling the corps members to switch from long range to melee weapons. Irritated at not having been able to shoot 30 simulations, Vic cursed under her breath as she pulled her katana-style saber from its scabbard strapped to her back. “Language, Little Raven,” a taunting voice called from her immediate left, causing the startled sword-wielding girl to turn her head and meet a pair of chocolate brown eyes with her own midnight blue ones.  
Tamashi Sawamura, the silver haired angel and tech expert of the team, had been Victoria’s best friend since she was six, although he had moved when she was nine and she wouldn’t see him again for six years when they graduated at fifteen as the top students of their military academy class. When they were younger, Tamashi, who had been the taller of the two, had started calling her Little Raven after her long black hair. Even though Vic had since cut her hair to chin length and was now a good inch and a half taller than her friend, Tamashi had stuck using the nickname, mostly to tease or chastise her. In addition to keeping her nickname, the brown-eyed nerd had given the rest of their merry band of warriors nicknames. Mathew, a skinny alien boy of twenty who possessed a notoriously poor memory, became Goldfish. Sian, a sixteen-year-old Chinese girl who had a temperamental nature and long nails, was dubbed Cat-chan. Commander Shiro became Space Dad, the young, eccentric alien Keona was unintentionally dubbed Cabbage after a translation error, and due to his large eyes, big brain, nocturnal tendencies, and a certain incident where someone spiked his grey hair into two peaks, Tamashi himself was named Fukurō, meaning owl in his native Japanese.  
“Shut it, Tamashi. And you know I don’t like it when you pop up out of nowhere like that. I swear, one of these days you’re going to do that and I’m going to chop your head off,” the ebony-haired soldier responded and glanced from her closest friend back to the advancing hordes of identical combatants, groaning. With Tamashi by her side, wit as smarting as blows from his custom bow staff, this could be a long battle.  
. . . . .  
Once the training ended and the routine review of the team’s performance by Shiro had been completed, Vic made a beeline for the area where she had witnessed the crash from earlier, followed closely by a curious Tamashi and Sian. Reaching her destination, Vic saw, as she had expected, a fallen storage crate and blast marks, but nothing that might have caused the orange flash that caught her eye previously. “Um, Vic,” Sian ventured, obviously puzzled by her comrade’s behavior, “what exactly are you looking for?” Vic started at the question, having been lost in her own thoughts, then explained rather heatedly what she had seen earlier and why the absence of something orange bothered her so much. “Are you sure you aren’t going crazy from being on a spaceship too long again, Little Raven?” Tamashi interjected with an innocently smile that hid his true devious nature. “Fukurō-chan, I’m not the one who ranted about cleaning windows in space, remember?” Vic answered sweetly with an expression to match. “If you two are done, I think I can solve your problem,” Sian said between giggles and smirks. The smaller Asian then went on to point across the room at Keona, who was wearing an orange shirt accented by her naturally purple complexion and black hair. “There is your missing orange thing. Cabbage was helping Mathew with a squad when he apparently forgot she was behind him and backed up, causing Cabbage to fall over and fire into the air, taking out all the supports for a storage crate and causing it to fall, which almost killed Mathew and I,” Sian explained animatedly, her annoyance present and palpable in her actions and dialogue. Someone remind me again why we gave the clumsiest being in the universe a pistol, Victoria thought exasperatedly as she walked over to talk to Shiro. She was becoming increasingly thankful for break days as time went on.  
. . . . .  
Walking down a worn grey hallway that led to her dorm, Victoria took in the familiar surroundings. Aside from the occasional ceiling height difference, most of the hallways of the Castle looked more or less the same. The Castle was the name of the starship/home base of the Voltron team and was essentially a space aircraft carrier. Equipped with state of the art weaponry and shields, hangers for the lions, and a collection of oddly shaped windows, the Castle had become Vic’s home away from home over the last three years ever since her graduation from the military academy. While at first it’s sheer size and uniformity made navigation a daunting task, the blue-eyed soldier had since learned her way around, thanks in no small part to a meticulously drawn map she had taped to her wall and studied for the first few months of her commission. By now, though, these hallways were more like friends than looming opponents or simple means of transportation. As Vic rounded a corner and saw the door to her room, she thought of the countless times she had hidden away from the universe by curling into a ball against the unyielding metal walls or had silently vented by striking the emotionless steel barriers with her hands and feet until all that remained was bruised fists, scratched leather, and an empty, hollow feeling inside. When she found out her older sister and father were presumed dead, when Tamashi almost died because of her mistake, when the Sian became too rude or cold, when she found out what had happened to Shiro. Whenever life became too much, this, a plain, dull grey hallway, became her sanctuary.  
As Vic reached her dorm room and opened the door with a click, she took a moment to take in her room. It’s so different from when I got here, she internally remarked. When she had first been assigned this dorm, it had been just that, a dorm. Simple white walls, twin bed in one corner, wardrobe and full length mirror in another, desk and chair in a third, and a door leading to a modest bathroom next to the wardrobe. Now it was home. The walls were now an olive green with murals and posters occasionally decorating walls, the ceiling painted to mimic the night sky, and books now adorned most surfaces. Vic had a passion for reading, and even with a bookcase that stretched to the ceiling, she could never seem to find enough space for all her books. Other personal touches were present in the form of a radio and stack of CD’s in one corner and a laptop surrounded by pictures and trinkets Vic had picked up from the planets they had visited during their voyage. So much has changed for me. Has anything stayed the same? the young woman pondered as she went to wash the grime of the day away.  
. . . . .  
After finishing her shower and changing into a maroon loose fitting tank top and a pair of comfortable black pants, Vic found herself studying her reflection in the mirror near her wardrobe. It was funny really, how she looked exactly the same and yet completely different. The same unusual dark blue eyes, same pointed ears and chin, same pale skin. Yet know there was a network of scars covering her skin like a spider web. Now there were piercings in her ears. Now her eyes had a haunted look that seemed to scream danger. She realized with a jolt that if her family or even a younger version of herself saw her right now, they most likely wouldn’t recognize her. She didn’t look like the girl who always raised her hand in class, the girl who had to be told not to read, the girl who actively avoided social interaction and preferred music to the real world. She looked like a warrior. Powerful, fearless, dangerous. She thought about the evolution of her team’s appearance, the changes her friends had gone through like she herself had. Mathew was no longer quite a thin as he had been and had started wearing prescription googles in place of his usual glasses. Sian had gotten better about wearing shoes and was taller than she had been when first joining the team. Keona kept her wild mane of black hair back in a bun now after almost killing herself in a battle because she couldn’t see and her skin had taken on darker purple hue. Shiro had lost his arm and gotten a prosthetic by the time he joined the Voltron and was even more scarred than Vic from fighting in gladiator matches for three years after being captured by a hostile species. Even Tamashi had changed. Though his hair had always been ash gray, Tamashi looked older and more serious and his snarky humor had somewhere along the lines turned into an unfailing kindness, causing him to become the heart and soul of the team.  
Crossing the room while in thought to turn on her radio, Vic sat at her desk and stared at the nonuniform white scars that crisscrossed her arms. Some of them were sustained during training or while saving her friends from themselves and were simply marks to their bearer. Others held more memory, more meaning. There was a small, jagged one on her forearm from where she and Tamashi had fallen from a bolder when they were kids. A starburst-shaped one near her shoulder from getting shot there protecting an injured Sian. A wickedly curved one from her time as a prisoner-of-war after a mission went horribly wrong. There were the bruises that dotted her upper arms, some of which were caused by training or battles, but most were caused by Keona punching her whenever the blue-eyed pilot said anything snarky or made fun of her. Strangely, her arms reminded her of an archaic star map she had once come across while reading. The map had once been unmarred, pristine in it’s simplicity and neatness. But now the map was worn, scarred by the notes and marks of midnight gazes and spontaneous ideas. And to Vic, that made it all the more beautiful and fascinating. To her, the map had whispered of thoughts long forgot and thinkers long passed. It spoke of other beliefs and ideas, of different lives. It spoke of life. And to Vic, that made it infinitely more valuable.  
. . . . .  
It was past noon when Vic woke from her nap. Sitting up groggily and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Vic had a momentary spasm of panic before remembering that she had the day off. After fighting nonstop in multiple interplanetary wars for three years, being lazy was something completely foreign and almost frightening. Deciding against going back to sleep, Vic remade her bed without thinking and habitually pulled her boots on. It was almost funny how she didn’t realize she had shoes on until she noticed that the floor wasn’t as cold as it had been before. Wandering down the worn grey hallway, Vic wondered where she could go. The mess hall would be open, but she wasn’t exactly hungry at the moment, so she decided to head up to the higher levels of the ship to the Observatory Deck.  
As the raven-haired girl walked through the identical hallways she had come to know like the back of her own hand, she shivered slightly, much to her own surprise. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt cold in one of these hallways, though admittedly most of the time she either had on her battle jacket, a hoodie, a long sleeve shirt, or her full-body battle/flight suit. Mentally kicking herself for not bringing a jacket, Vic continued down the metallic hallway toward the lift that would take her up to the ship’s upper level. As she passed splinter hallways that branched out from the main corridor, the sounds of her teammates made her slow down just a bit to figure out what they were doing. Sian could be heard through her closed door screaming “Curse you, Sebastian Verlac,” and “But they’re not siblings,” which meant she was re-watching her favorite TV series. Mathew was silent, which meant he was either reading, writing, or sleeping. Keona was nowhere to be found, so Vic just assumed the young alien was running amok in the castle again. As she neared the door to the lift, the soft murmuring of her dearest friend could be heard echoing softly down the empty splinter hallway. Stopping completely, Vic strained to hear what her best friend was saying. “Sore wa tanoshī to omou,” the usually positive man uttered softly in his native tongue, his tone one of gentle happiness and longing. “Anata ga koishī.” Though Victoria was far from fluent, she understood some basic Japanese phrases. “I miss you,” he had said. As the blue-eyed girl crept away from her friend’s voice so as to not disturb him and got into the lift, she thought about what each member of the team did on a day off.  
Sian and Keona had the freedom to do what they wanted. Mathew took the time of no pressing issues to finally relax. Vic herself reminisced on her life thus far because that’s just what her mind focused on when it had nothing else to do, it had deep philosophical discussions with itself. Shiro might be sleeping, but honestly, he was probably training. Along with his arm, Shiro had lost his ability to relax after his capture and was tense, even when they made trips to Earth. It was Vic’s (and the rest of the crew’s) private opinion that the man just needed a hug, but their commander would always be too proud to admit it. But it was Tamashi’s use of this break that stuck out to Vic the most. Every time Voltron got a break, Tamashi called his family. Once, when Vic got curious and asked him why, he simply responded “We’re teenagers flying through space and nearly dying every few days or so. I need something to keep me grounded, some steady thing in my life.” His response, both sensible and profound, reminded Vic of why his name meant soul in Japanese. Because if anyone came close to being as wholesome and complicated as the human soul, it was Sawamura Tamashi.  
As Victoria reached the Observatory Deck, she took a moment to lose herself in the immeasurable expanse of stars twinkling at her from their inky black canvas. The Observatory Deck was a large, circular room at the very top of the Castle made almost entirely out of a clear, glass-like material that let one look out into the vast mural of the cosmos. This was, other than her room, Vic’s favorite part of the ship. The ebony-haired soldier had always been fascinated with the stars and that was what drove her to volunteer for this mission. Making her way slowly across the dark, noiseless room and laying down with her feet near the edge of the dome that made up the walls and ceiling of the chamber, Vic thought about what Tamashi had said all those years ago, about having something constant and steady in your life. Tamashi and most of her other crewmates had their families to lean on, but who did she have? Her mother had been dead for eight years and her father and sister were…missing. And, she thought sadly, who did Shiro have?  
. . . . .  
As Vic lay on the rough carpeted floor of the Observation Deck contemplating her situation, her mind turned to the one subject it always did when feeling empty like she was now, and that was books. In the midst of debating whether or not to spoil a book for Sian just to get her to stop whining, Vic remembered that in several of the books she had read, the main character is without a biological family. Instead of being supported by parents and siblings, they were supported be friends. With that revelation in mind, Vic thought about her own friends and her own life. Sian, while sometimes off-putting and rude, was always there to talk or just hang out with, and would probably follow Vic to the end of the universe if she asked. Mathew was probably the steadiest of the group, always calm and was probably the only thing keeping the team from losing their heads altogether. Keona was always there to make her laugh or keep her from taking herself too seriously. Shiro was always supportive and caring, after all they didn’t call him Space Dad for nothing. And of course, there was Tamashi, who would always be there for her, to catch her when she fell and shove her when she needed it, even if she said she didn’t. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that maybe, just maybe, she’d had a family for her entire life, even after her mum died and her father and sister went missing. Maybe the same thing was going on for Shiro, she thought, relieved that maybe her Commander did know family. As Vic stared at the stars, it seemed to her that they were shining just a little bit brighter than before.  
. . . . .  
It’s funny how whenever someone goes through a dramatic, life-altering change of mind, everything seems so profoundly different when they know it’s all still the same. As Vic traced the familiar path back to her dorm room, scenes that would usually draw no further thought from her now filled her head in swarms. Like how Mathew asked Shiro to check his grammar in a report and Shiro looked like a proud dad when he found no mistakes, or how Tamashi gave a shoeless Sian a piggy-back ride after she complained about her feet being cold and the duo had looked like brother and sister. As older memories were called and re-examined, Vic found it harder and harder to believe that she hadn’t realized what her friends were to her sooner. As the noises of playful chaos in her mind quieted and she reached her door, she noticed that, for what felt like the first time in a lifetime, she was smiling.  
. . . . .  
As the blue-eyed pilot entered her room, still dazed by her ground-shaking revelation, she realized that she had left her stereo playing when she left her room earlier. As she went over to shut it off, her eyes widened slightly as she registered what song was playing. It the very end of Rob Thomas’ “Hold On Forever.”

Just fall apart if you need to  
I’m here and I won’t leave you now  
Don’t look down  
Hold on forever

Just take my hand, hold on forever  
Hold on forever  
Just take my hand, hold on forever

After listening to the end of the song and shutting the stereo off, Vic lay down on her bed once again, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster the day had brought. As she lay in the dark musing as to if the universe was just trying to be sappy in its music choices, Victoria failed to notice the uncommon felling growing inside her. Safety. Sure, she might die tomorrow or be captured, but right now, as she drifted off to dream of stars with friends in her head and family in her heart, she was safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, you got through it so yay! I hope you liked that and it wasn't as bad as Lev's receives. This was actually a school assignment so if it seems overly cheesy that is why. Also, if you've never heard it, go check out "Hold On Forever," it's really cute. Please leave comments and thank you for reading!


End file.
